


Shuura Blossoms

by anaraine



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-03 20:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12153774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaraine/pseuds/anaraine
Summary: Alone in the shuura grove, Padmé and Dormé share a quiet dinner.





	Shuura Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiningstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningstar/gifts).



Padmé startles violently when the chrono chimes the hour and begins to play the Symponik Nabooalla. Given that the piece is meant to play at the seventh hour and not the twentieth, she doesn't hold it against herself. Much.

" _Sabé_ ," she mutters under her breath. Her ire is nearly as strong as her chagrin.

"What was that, my lady?" Sabé asks solicitously. She sounds perfectly attentive, but her eyes are widened to a degree that is almost comical.

Padmé is not amused, but she cannot say the same for Cordé. Her newest handmaiden is trying desperately to hide her growing smile behind her hand.

"I suppose you orchestrated this?" Padmé asks, keeping her tone as even as she can. She doesn't want to give Sabé the satisfaction of a better reaction.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sabé lies cheerfully, dropping her stylus to the table and stretching her arms behind her head. "But if I did, it was definitely _not_ because a certain someone had a dinner date tonight."

"I don't—" Padmé begins, only to realize that she does, in fact, have plans for dinner. Informal plans that don't require her to dress as Queen, only as Padmé.

Sabé's smile softens. "Cordé and I can finish up here, my lady." She tilts her head in the direction of the door. "You'll need to hurry if you don't want to be late."

Cordé nods her head in fervent agreement and adds, "It is the height of rudeness to be late, my lady."

"I see Sabé has been teaching you the fine art of sassing your Queen," Padmé says wryly. She shakes her head in mock disappointment, before addressing them more seriously. "Thank you - both of you."

Sabé waves a dismissive hand. "You're welcome. Now go before I decide to throw you out."

An impish smile growing on her face, Padmé takes the time to press two quick kisses to each of their cheeks before darting out the door and across the hall to the nearest staircase. It's one of the hidden ones, so there is no one to see her as she descends less than gracefully; she hoists her skirts above her knees and takes as many steps at a time as she can.

By the time she makes it to the shuura grove, Padmé's cheeks are slightly flushed, and she cannot blame them entirely on the exertion. She tries to calm the quickness of her breath as she steps between the blossoming shuura trees, looking for where Dormé has settled down for dinner.

Before she can call out for directions, Dormé laughs. The sound is quiet but fond, warming Padmé from head to toe.

"Over here, my lady," Dormé says, and Padmé follows the sound of her voice to a veritable feast laid out on a blanket.

"Good evening, Dormé."

Dormé echoes the greeting with a smile. "I had wondered if I should go upstairs to collect you."

Padmé pauses in unbuckling her boots to admit, "Sabé needed to remind me."

"You'll have to remind me to thank her," Dormé says fondly.

"I already thanked her," Padmé says, and presses a quick kiss to Dormé's lips. "But I'm sure she'll be happy to receive your appreciation."

Dormé hums, leaning up to share another kiss. This one is longer, a _I'm so happy you're here_ kiss instead of a perfunctory _hello_. Padmé is in no particular hurry to end it, but her stomach disagrees with a loud rumble.

A flush heats her cheeks, but Padmé pulls away laughing.

"I suppose I'm hungrier than I realized."

Dormé shakes her head. "I'm not surprised. Did you have anything to eat between the midday meal and now?"

Padmé casts her thoughts back. "Just sweet paste?" she says hesitantly.

"Which proves my point well, I think. Here, try this first," Dormé says, lifting a small pastry to her lips.

Padmé bites into the pastry slowly, catching Dormé's thumb with the corner of her lips. Dormé's eyes darken with lust, but Padmé barely has time to enjoy the sight as rich flavors roll over her tongue.

"What is this?"

"Potolli and caramelized chak-root."

"I didn't realize potolli was this tender," Padmé says, taking the remainder of the pastry from Dormé's fingers.

"It's not, usually. But this month's shipment was larger than usual and the kitchens needed to find other ways to serve it without resorting to dried jerky."

Padmé hums delightedly around another mouthful. "Then please give my compliments to the chef. This is delicious."

Dormé smiles and gestures to another plate. "Perhaps that one next?"

Padmé tries it. She tries at least a bite of everything Dormé sets before her. Most of the food tastes divine, though there are a couple combinations that she is not particularly fond of. By the end of the meal, she is listing against Dormé's side, tracing patterns on the palm of her hand.

"Thank you, for this," Padmé says, sighing as she tucks her head into the crook of Dormé's shoulder.

"You're very welcome, my lady," Dormé says, with a low hum of contentment.


End file.
